A Brief Respite From Hell
by Jade II
Summary: Even when she's dead, Lilah still sometimes has to do the dirty work. Written for josslas on LJ. LilahSpike... sort of.


She found him in a third-rate bar in the middle of small-town Ohio, reading poetry to a disinterested crowd.

_Why me, why me..._ Lilah asked herself for the eighth time that day. _You'd think they would leave you alone after you were dead, but no... 'Best person for the job', my ass. I didn't even know the guy._

She had to admit though, this did make a change from watching Wesley run through a thousand different hells screaming for Fred when he knew he would never find her there. What a waste of an afterlife.

Her current assignment finished his rhyming tale of lost love and eternal suffering and stumbled offstage to sporadic applause. Drunk, then. Well, that would probably make this easier.

Readjusting her necktie, Lilah sauntered over to where the poet had half collapsed at the bar and sat down next to him. Crossing her legs, she caught the bartender's eye and then turned her attention to the task at hand.

"Spike," she said.

The blond vampire beside her almost jumped out of his skin. "Who are you?" he demanded, attempting to sit up straight. His eyes took a little too long to focus, Lilah noted.

"I'm Lilah Morgan, with Wolfram and Hart," she stated. God, she hadn't said _that_ in a while...

Spike's eyes narrowed to a glare. "If you've come to kill me, just do it. Otherwise you can piss off, I'm not interested."

"See," said Lilah, "I knew you were gonna say that. Waste of time, I said, you killed all his friends, you expect him to want anything to do with you after that? But did they listen to me? No." She shook her head. "Ah well, I tried."

Spike blinked. "That's it?"

"Sure." Lilah shrugged. "You've said no. Buy me a drink?"

"I don't trust you."

"I didn't ask you to. I asked you to buy me a drink."

"I'm broke."

"You mean they don't tip you for that stuff you read out?"

"What do you think I'm paying for _my_ drink with? Buy your own."

"Alright then, I will. Tequila sunrise, please," she said to the bartender. "So." She turned back to face Spike. "You come here often, or was that a one night only special performance?"

"I told you, I don't trust you. Bugger off."

Lilah raised an eyebrow. "No."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine. I will." He downed his newly arrived drink before he stood up, wobbled, and headed for the door.

Lilah followed.

Spike lasted a good three minutes pretending to ignore her before he broke. Whirling around to face her, he put on his vamp face and growled menacingly.

Lilah crossed her arms. "I'm with Wolfram and Hart, Spike. You think _that's_ gonna scare me?"

His shoulders slumped. "Worth a try." He sighed. "Wanna shag?"

She blinked. "I thought you were pining after Buffy." He had surprised her... Lilah abruptly wondered how long it had been since she had last been surprised. Quite a while, she was sure.

"And that means I can't have a nice, meaningless shag once in a while why, exactly? I'm not a eunuch like Angel was, you know. Now, either you're going to kill me or not – either way a bit of a bonk beforehand will brighten things up for me considerably. Yes or no?"

Opening her mouth to speak, Lilah still wasn't sure how to answer, even though the Wolfram and Hart part of her was saying yes, absolutely – this was a golden opportunity and she'd be a fool to miss it. And how long had it been since Wesley, anyway...?

Spike took the decision out of her hands when he grabbed her and kissed her.

It was rough, and it bordered on painful when his fangs started to dig into her lip, and when he pulled away Lilah felt absolutely exhilarated.

Too long, that was how long it had been.

"You got a place nearby?" Spike was asking.

"Motel room," Lilah said breathlessly.

"Let's go."

- - -

They were both half naked when he reached to pull off her necktie. She was too slow to stop him.

Her hand flew to her neck as Spike eyed the mark Wesley had left there, his expression more intrigued than anything else.

"Hello... you're not quite human, are you?"

"Neither are you," Lilah pointed out.

Spike grinned. "What happened to you?"

"Ancient weapon to the neck, then a vampire, then an axe."

"Sounds a bit like overkill to me, love. But, also... hang on. Something's very familiar here... Oh!" His face lit up. "You're Wesley's bird!"

Lilah was so taken aback by this that she physically moved away from him. "How do you know that?"

Spike seemed far more amused than he should at her reaction. "Wolfram and Hart lawyer, Wesley-boy had to take an axe to her... funny the things you overhear when you're a ghost." He sat back, looking more smug than he had any right to be. "Well, well, well."

"Is that a problem for you?" Lilah asked, forcing herself to regain her composure.

Spike appeared to contemplate this, then shrugged. "No," he said, and pinned her to the bed.

- - -

"We steer him in the right direction, he'll be ours within the year," Lilah said, finishing her report. She was asked a couple more questions, but her mind was on... Well, on sex. There was something bothering her about the way she'd handled her assignment, but she was damned if she knew what it was.

Of course she was damned anyway, she thought as she signed the non-disclosure agreement and was given her one-way ticket back to hell.

But when she got there, she decided, perhaps she would try to find Wesley.


End file.
